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About The Gargoyle

A New York Times Bestseller

The Gargoyle: the mesmerizing story of one man’s descent into personal hell and his quest for salvation.

On a dark road in the middle of the night, a car plunges into a ravine. The driver survives the crash, but his injuries confine him to a hospital burn unit. There the mysterious Marianne Engel, a sculptress of grotesques, enters his life. She insists they were lovers in medieval Germany, when he was a mercenary and she was a scribe in the monastery of Engelthal. As she spins the story of their past lives together, the man’s disbelief falters; soon, even the impossible can no longer be dismissed.

About The Gargoyle

A New York Times Bestseller

The Gargoyle: the mesmerizing story of one man’s descent into personal hell and his quest for salvation.

On a dark road in the middle of the night, a car plunges into a ravine. The driver survives the crash, but his injuries confine him to a hospital burn unit. There the mysterious Marianne Engel, a sculptress of grotesques, enters his life. She insists they were lovers in medieval Germany, when he was a mercenary and she was a scribe in the monastery of Engelthal. As she spins the story of their past lives together, the man’s disbelief falters; soon, even the impossible can no longer be dismissed.

From the Trade Paperback edition.

About The Gargoyle

An extraordinary debut novel of love that survives the fires of hell and transcends the boundaries of time

The narrator of The Gargoyle is a very contemporary cynic, physically beautiful and sexually adept, who dwells in the moral vacuum that is modern life. As the book opens, he is driving along a dark road when he is distracted by what seems to be a flight of arrows. He crashes into a ravine and suffers horrible burns over much of his body. As he recovers in a burn ward, undergoing the tortures of the damned, he awaits the day when he can leave the hospital and commit carefully planned suicide—for he is now a monster in appearance as well as in soul.

A beautiful and compelling, but clearly unhinged, sculptress of gargoyles by the name of Marianne Engel appears at the foot of his bed and insists that they were once lovers in medieval Germany. In her telling, he was a badly injured mercenary and she was a nun and scribe in the famed monastery of Engelthal who nursed him back to health. As she spins their tale in Scheherazade fashion and relates equally mesmerizing stories of deathless love in Japan, Iceland, Italy, and England, he finds himself drawn back to life—and, finally, in love. He is released into Marianne’s care and takes up residence in her huge stone house. But all is not well. For one thing, the pull of his past sins becomes ever more powerful as the morphine he is prescribed becomes ever more addictive. For another, Marianne receives word from God that she has only twenty-seven sculptures left to complete—and her time on earth will be finished.

Already an international literary sensation, the Gargoyle is an Inferno for our time. It will have you believing in the impossible.

Praise

“Spellbinding. . . . A page-turning adventure that will keep you reading well past bedtime.” —The Boston Globe“An undeniably hot book. . . . It’s as engrossing as it is gruesome, the kind of horror you watch with one eye closed. . . . A hell of a story.” —The Washington Post"Take a deep breath and plunge into this novel. It’s a tale of love and redemption told through Davidson’s haunting prose. " —USA Today“A transportingly unhinged debut. . . . Vigorous and impressive.” —The New York Times “Keeps the pages turning.” —The Plain Dealer “Take a deep breath and plunge into this novel. It’s a tale of love and redemption told through Davidson’s haunting prose.” —USA Today “Mr. Davidson skillfully assembles a centuries-old puzzle involving a series of fables of undying love. . . . The reader is kept guessing until the final pages.” —The Wall Street Journal“Mixes medical drama with medieval religious lore to explore the boundaries of faith and forgiveness. . . . Compelling.” —San Francisco Chronicle “Reads like the mad spawn of Anne Rice and Stephen King.” —Providence Journal “Original and highly addictive. . . . Captivating. . . . An impressive, memorable debut.” —The Denver Post “A story that sweeps us in with no protest. You want to be lost in its pages. . . . The real tragedy of this book is that it ends.” —Daily News“Beguiling. . . . Mixing romance, classic allusion and reality, Davidson’s debut is a bravura performance.” —Marie Claire“I was blown away by Andrew Davidson’s The Gargoyle. It reminded me of Life of Pi, with its unanswered (and unanswerable) contradictions. A hypnotic, horrifying, astonishing novel that manages, against all odds, to be redemptive." —Sara Gruen, author of Water for Elephants“The Gargoyle is purely and simply an amazement, a riot, a blast. It’s hard to believe that this is Andrew Davidson’s first novel: He barrels out of the chute with the narrative brio and confidence, not to mention the courage, of a seasoned master. This book plucks the reader off the ground and whirls her through the air until she shouts from sheer abandonment and joy. What a great, grand treat.” —Peter Straub

About Andrew Davidson

Andrew Davidson was born in Pinawa, Manitoba, and graduated in 1995 from the University of British Columbia with a B.A. in English literature. He has worked as a teacher in Japan, where he has lived on and off, and as… More about Andrew Davidson

About Andrew Davidson

Andrew Davidson was born in Pinawa, Manitoba, and graduated in 1995 from the University of British Columbia with a B.A. in English literature. He has worked as a teacher in Japan, where he has lived on and off, and as… More about Andrew Davidson

About Andrew Davidson

Andrew Davidson was born in Pinawa, Manitoba, and graduated in 1995 from the University of British Columbia with a B.A. in English literature. He has worked as a teacher in Japan, where he has lived on and off, and as… More about Andrew Davidson

Author Q&A

An Interview with Andrew DavidsonYou spent seven years writing The Gargoyle, a novel begun in your thirties. What was your starting point?

When I first moved to Japan, teaching English and writing for Japanese Web sites, I wrote a series of letters to a close friend. In these letters, a character started to pop up in the correspondence, taking it over whenever she could wrestle away control of my pen. She arrived with wild hair and blue-green eyes, ranting in front of a church, and her name arrived with her: Marianne Engel. She just kept jabbing at me until I consented to give her more attention. It was clear that she would inhabit a novel.

At the time I was struck with a curiosity about the treatment of severe burn survivors. I recognize that this might seem somewhat specialized and peculiar, but it was directly related to an idea I had for the starting point of a story. I imagine that everyone has had a relationship end and experienced the feeling of having “been burned.” It is a clichéd image, to be sure, but it is a cliché because it is apt and true. I was intrigued by the idea of a relationship that did not end with the feeling of being burned, but one that began with such a feeling–taken to the most literal level.

How did you tackle the research for The Gargoyle?

The story was not written and then supplemented with research as needed; no, I read widely and sometimes a single bit of new information twisted my novel in another direction. My research has been almost entirely based in written works, ranging from encyclopedias of medieval German life to medical journals on the latest burn research. As of this writing (July 2008), I have never been to Germany; in fact, I have never been to continental Europe. Similarly, I have never been to a burn ward.

An example of wandering research influencing the novel came in the entire portion of the book set in medieval Germany. There was no original intention to take the story to this place and time; the first draft had absolutely no mention of Sister Marianne’s life in the Middle Ages. It was not until I had been working on the novel for a year that I came across a reference to a monastery called Engelthal. As I mentioned, Marianne Engel arrived with her name fully intact, and while I knew her last name meant “angel” in German, I had never heard of the monastery. The medieval German section ultimately came into being because the character who had intruded into my personal letters arrived with the name Engel, and because I found the name of the monastery–“Engelthal” or “Valley of the Angels”–quite charming.

During his youth, the novel’s narrator found solace in his local library. When you were a child, was the same true for you?

I was the boy who bicycled down to the library and returned with my basket filled with books. I went through dozens each week; there was nothing better. Subject matter ran from biographies to science to myths to serious fiction–everything was of interest. When I was not reading, I liked to sit in the corner and listen to the adults talk, and I most enjoyed the tall tales. The more certain I was that the story was a lie, the more I enjoyed the telling of it.

When did you realize you wanted to become a writer?

Through my teen years, I concentrated on playing hockey. I was, after all, a Canadian boy. I was good but not nearly good enough. By the time I was sixteen, I realized that there would be no future in the National Hockey League for me. The timing coincided with an exceptional high school English teacher and from that age forward, all I ever wanted to do professionally was write.

You’ve experienced the sort of debut most writers dream of, with foreign rights sold in more than twenty countries and phenomenal pre-publication praise. What advice do you have for aspiring novelists?

I have taken many courses on writing and was often told that it is best to write about what one knows. I have always found this to be the worst possible advice. I would suggest that one should always write about what one wants to know, because there will be weeks, months, or even years of research. It is essential to find something that can hold one’s interest for such periods.The process by which I write is to overwrite and then reduce. The novel as it stands, at approximately 154,000 words, was reduced from more than one million words that I wrote while trying to discover what I was writing about.

From the Hardcover edition.

An Interview with Andrew DavidsonYou spent seven years writing The Gargoyle, a novel begun in your thirties. What was your starting point?

When I first moved to Japan, teaching English and writing for Japanese Web sites, I wrote a series of letters to a close friend. In these letters, a character started to pop up in the correspondence, taking it over whenever she could wrestle away control of my pen. She arrived with wild hair and blue-green eyes, ranting in front of a church, and her name arrived with her: Marianne Engel. She just kept jabbing at me until I consented to give her more attention. It was clear that she would inhabit a novel.

At the time I was struck with a curiosity about the treatment of severe burn survivors. I recognize that this might seem somewhat specialized and peculiar, but it was directly related to an idea I had for the starting point of a story. I imagine that everyone has had a relationship end and experienced the feeling of having “been burned.” It is a clichéd image, to be sure, but it is a cliché because it is apt and true. I was intrigued by the idea of a relationship that did not end with the feeling of being burned, but one that began with such a feeling–taken to the most literal level.

How did you tackle the research for The Gargoyle?

The story was not written and then supplemented with research as needed; no, I read widely and sometimes a single bit of new information twisted my novel in another direction. My research has been almost entirely based in written works, ranging from encyclopedias of medieval German life to medical journals on the latest burn research. As of this writing (July 2008), I have never been to Germany; in fact, I have never been to continental Europe. Similarly, I have never been to a burn ward.

An example of wandering research influencing the novel came in the entire portion of the book set in medieval Germany. There was no original intention to take the story to this place and time; the first draft had absolutely no mention of Sister Marianne’s life in the Middle Ages. It was not until I had been working on the novel for a year that I came across a reference to a monastery called Engelthal. As I mentioned, Marianne Engel arrived with her name fully intact, and while I knew her last name meant “angel” in German, I had never heard of the monastery. The medieval German section ultimately came into being because the character who had intruded into my personal letters arrived with the name Engel, and because I found the name of the monastery–“Engelthal” or “Valley of the Angels”–quite charming.

During his youth, the novel’s narrator found solace in his local library. When you were a child, was the same true for you?

I was the boy who bicycled down to the library and returned with my basket filled with books. I went through dozens each week; there was nothing better. Subject matter ran from biographies to science to myths to serious fiction–everything was of interest. When I was not reading, I liked to sit in the corner and listen to the adults talk, and I most enjoyed the tall tales. The more certain I was that the story was a lie, the more I enjoyed the telling of it.

When did you realize you wanted to become a writer?

Through my teen years, I concentrated on playing hockey. I was, after all, a Canadian boy. I was good but not nearly good enough. By the time I was sixteen, I realized that there would be no future in the National Hockey League for me. The timing coincided with an exceptional high school English teacher and from that age forward, all I ever wanted to do professionally was write.

You’ve experienced the sort of debut most writers dream of, with foreign rights sold in more than twenty countries and phenomenal pre-publication praise. What advice do you have for aspiring novelists?

I have taken many courses on writing and was often told that it is best to write about what one knows. I have always found this to be the worst possible advice. I would suggest that one should always write about what one wants to know, because there will be weeks, months, or even years of research. It is essential to find something that can hold one’s interest for such periods.The process by which I write is to overwrite and then reduce. The novel as it stands, at approximately 154,000 words, was reduced from more than one million words that I wrote while trying to discover what I was writing about.

From the Hardcover edition.

An Interview with Andrew DavidsonYou spent seven years writing The Gargoyle, a novel begun in your thirties. What was your starting point?

When I first moved to Japan, teaching English and writing for Japanese Web sites, I wrote a series of letters to a close friend. In these letters, a character started to pop up in the correspondence, taking it over whenever she could wrestle away control of my pen. She arrived with wild hair and blue-green eyes, ranting in front of a church, and her name arrived with her: Marianne Engel. She just kept jabbing at me until I consented to give her more attention. It was clear that she would inhabit a novel.

At the time I was struck with a curiosity about the treatment of severe burn survivors. I recognize that this might seem somewhat specialized and peculiar, but it was directly related to an idea I had for the starting point of a story. I imagine that everyone has had a relationship end and experienced the feeling of having “been burned.” It is a clichéd image, to be sure, but it is a cliché because it is apt and true. I was intrigued by the idea of a relationship that did not end with the feeling of being burned, but one that began with such a feeling–taken to the most literal level.

How did you tackle the research for The Gargoyle?

The story was not written and then supplemented with research as needed; no, I read widely and sometimes a single bit of new information twisted my novel in another direction. My research has been almost entirely based in written works, ranging from encyclopedias of medieval German life to medical journals on the latest burn research. As of this writing (July 2008), I have never been to Germany; in fact, I have never been to continental Europe. Similarly, I have never been to a burn ward.

An example of wandering research influencing the novel came in the entire portion of the book set in medieval Germany. There was no original intention to take the story to this place and time; the first draft had absolutely no mention of Sister Marianne’s life in the Middle Ages. It was not until I had been working on the novel for a year that I came across a reference to a monastery called Engelthal. As I mentioned, Marianne Engel arrived with her name fully intact, and while I knew her last name meant “angel” in German, I had never heard of the monastery. The medieval German section ultimately came into being because the character who had intruded into my personal letters arrived with the name Engel, and because I found the name of the monastery–“Engelthal” or “Valley of the Angels”–quite charming.

During his youth, the novel’s narrator found solace in his local library. When you were a child, was the same true for you?

I was the boy who bicycled down to the library and returned with my basket filled with books. I went through dozens each week; there was nothing better. Subject matter ran from biographies to science to myths to serious fiction–everything was of interest. When I was not reading, I liked to sit in the corner and listen to the adults talk, and I most enjoyed the tall tales. The more certain I was that the story was a lie, the more I enjoyed the telling of it.

When did you realize you wanted to become a writer?

Through my teen years, I concentrated on playing hockey. I was, after all, a Canadian boy. I was good but not nearly good enough. By the time I was sixteen, I realized that there would be no future in the National Hockey League for me. The timing coincided with an exceptional high school English teacher and from that age forward, all I ever wanted to do professionally was write.

You’ve experienced the sort of debut most writers dream of, with foreign rights sold in more than twenty countries and phenomenal pre-publication praise. What advice do you have for aspiring novelists?

I have taken many courses on writing and was often told that it is best to write about what one knows. I have always found this to be the worst possible advice. I would suggest that one should always write about what one wants to know, because there will be weeks, months, or even years of research. It is essential to find something that can hold one’s interest for such periods.The process by which I write is to overwrite and then reduce. The novel as it stands, at approximately 154,000 words, was reduced from more than one million words that I wrote while trying to discover what I was writing about.